Prodigal Prize
by Mariagoner
Summary: Trying to hold onto a past that seems determined to elude you is an exercise in futility. But even those who already knows this can still feel the need to try. NoahFfamranBalthier. References to sex abound.
1. Chapter 1

For Cygnahime, who is celebrating her glorious 18th birthday this week. And in honor of turning legal, I write her... angsty quasi-pr0n fic. Happy birthday, sweetheart.

Comments, corrections and criticism are, as always, completely welcome and loved! After all, a little encouragement never fails to add a bit of inspiration... And since this is my first time writing both Noah _and_ Balthier, I am atremble with fear that I haven't done them justice. I would love to know if any readers out there thing that such is or isn't the case.

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**Title: Prodigal Prize**

**Fandom: Final Fantasy XII**

**Characters/Pairings: Noah/Ffamran(Balthier)**

**Rating: R**

**Summary: Trying to hold onto a past that seems determined to elude you is an exercise in futility. But even those who already knows this can still feel the need to try.**

**Warnings: Some elements of non-consensual acts exist and references to sex abound.**

* * *

"I have to go," were the first words that Archadia's prodigal son had spoken as soon as they had found each other within the dark maze that served as Archades, as soon as Noah had taken him once more into his arms. "I have to leave, soon, and you know better than anyone else the reasons just why."

In truth, Noah _did_ know why. It had been years, years and years and _years_, since he had last seen Ffamran, since he had last touched his soft hair, or strained against his taut body, or indulged in the pleasures of his silver tongue. And truth be told, even if Noah had _not_ been part of the long arm of the Archadia, or leading a bureau in charge of the intricate spy system of the empire, he would have known why. The long years that had passed between them no doubt had changed the boy Noah had once loved, had shaped him into something strange and tangled and winged that Noah well knew he could not hold onto, even now.

Yes, Noah did know why Ffamram had to leave soon all too well. He knew it as well as he knew all of the other reasons Ffamram had come to him-- for codes, for information, for the ability to understand just how to find what he needed to in the dark heart of Tsenoble. He knew and the knowledge burned into him as Vayne's eyes had done when his liege had directed him to allow the prodigal son of the Bunansa's leave to leap to his awaiting father's side.

Plots and plans and schemes within schemes... and where it would all lead, Noah had not even a single idea. But he knew now what Ffamram had no idea that Noah would have given him all he needed to break into his father's secrets anyway... and no idea that Noah was extracting all he could from him now. And somewhere in the room that Noah had led him to, Ffamram was talking, words a strange, atypical jumble that held nothing of his usual, blithe, graceful touch. No fine Archadian poetry was this-- and here was no sky pirate before him now. Just an untrained boy Noah had once loved, reduced to a common whore bartering his body for pearls of wisdom beyond price.

"I have to leave, right after this. You give me what I need and I give you what you want, and then I--"

"I know," Noah whispered right back, pressing against Ffamran's sturdy body, against his white neck, against the soft, brownish strands gently fanning across his closed eyes. "I do know, all of that and more. The devil knows better than all others what bargains he must strike."

Ffamran's laugh with a long, harsh breath against his face, though Noah could already feel his body stirring, reading itself now. The flesh was willing, at least, even as the will strained for ways out. "The devil himself likely _does_ know that much... which only makes me wonder why he seems so keen on deluding himself."

His lover always _did_ have such a sharp, pretty mouth. Noah wondered if it would still be as skilled as ever when he used it later tonight. "No delusion, just... a willing suspension of disbelief. And why must you always mar these moments by pressing the partings so far?"

Even pressed against Noah's flesh, Ffamran's mouth had a habit of curling up into a truly nasty smile. "Why persist telling me to stay?" his lover whispered against Noah's lips and Noah's cheeks, Noah's mouth and Noah's hair. "Why wallow in delusion where there are no other possibilities for us?"

Almost despite himself, Noah laughed. From the way Ffamran's eyes narrowed, it was likely not a reassuring one. "For you of all people to start talking about possibilities... for the most famous sky pirate from all of Archadia to start believing in the tragic inevitability of our lot!"

"At least," Ffamran whispered slowly, one of his hands already tightening around Noah's rough shirt, as though to tear it off. "At least I don't pretend I can have what I know I can't keep for long."

"Perhaps. But we have this, at least," Noah murmured, hands already intent on stripping Ffamran of his ridiculous gold vest and his frilled shirt, of his narrow, hide-skinned pants, of all the gaudy finery that he wore to outstrip the past. "We have this and you can't force me to give it up. You Archadians are all the same, you want to bury _everything_ in the past, and escape it altogether. As though that would do any good... as though that would keep you from harm."

"Like you're any better," Ffamran whispered, fingers already brushing against Noah's narrow hip bones, one thigh already grinding between Noah's legs, extracting a murmur, a sigh, a shout. "Like the famed Judge Magister Gabranth doesn't live in the past himself, trapped in a mummer's cloth, blind to everything around him, hoping duty will help him get lost..."

To that, Noah had no answer and give no reply… unless, of course, the motion of his lips against Ffamran's breath counted, along with the sway of his arms around Ffamran's bare back, the curl of his fingers around his lover's trembling thighs. No matter what Ffamran had to say, no matter what Noah was being forced to _do_, at least he could have this-- this touch, this creature, this _human connection_-- for the here and now.

This was the only reason-- the _only_ one-- why Noah was in this room right now. This was the only reason he would soon pin Ffamran under him, soon run his mouth across Ffamran's open lips and arch between Ffamran's opened thighs and sigh against Ffamran's smug smile.

At least he knew he could he could hold on to this moment, this man, this mind... even if it was only for a moment, even if it was only through mummery, blackmail, artifice. And perhaps it was just as well, that there was only this much that Ffamram could give him, that it came through means Noah knew well how to manipulate, rather than relying on his own heart.

After all, if Noah hadn't even been able to keep to his own _brother_, to defend his own _kingdom_, to hold on to his own _honor_...

"Stay," Noah whispered, almost helplessly, arms around both his once lover and a past that would not die. "Just… for now. Just _stay_. I don't care what you have to do now-- I'll even help you flee afterwards. Just... for now... stay. _Stay_. For a while."

And Ffamran did as told, for the first time in ages. But only for as long as he had to, until the candles scattered about their bed faded to pale and hopeless dawn lights.


	2. Shoot

Just two short drabbles from the universe of a dark little number titled Prodigal Prize. These were originally written for the unfairly talented **Sheffiesharpe **and are still, I suppose, for her. Hope you had a happy weekend before the workweek inevitably overcame you, love. ;)

And as always, feedback is glorious and encourages me to write more!

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**Title: Pithy Possessions**

**Fandom: Final Fantasy XII**

**Characters/Pairings: Noah/Ffamran, Basch/Balthier**

**Rating: R, Sexual Content, Non-consensual Sexual Situations, Violence**

**Summary: This is how they began. This was why they were always doomed.**

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Noah first had the pleasure of tasting Ffamran when he was only a teenager.

The intervening years since have coarsened the texture of Ffamran's skin and added bite to his once warm smile... but has done nothing to dim the pleasure.

Ffamran-- Noah will _never_ call him Balthier unless he must-- was nervous in bed the first time. Noah was his commanding officer and Ffamran was worried to death that displeasing him would mean displeasing his father (and at the time, he could think of no worse fate in the world.) Noah considers it a sign of his compassion that he took charge and ended up all but forcefully sodomizing a sixteen year old child.

Ffamran-- _Balthier_-- did not. Balthier never will.

Noah will never call him Balthier unless he has to. Balthier will never call Noah-- will never even _think_ to call Noah-- anything other than Judge Magister.

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Whenever Basch fucks him, Balthier never kisses him. It reminds him, too much, of that other one, that first night.

Basch minds, of course. How could he not? He doesn't know, yet, what makes Balthier crawl into his bed every time they have a safe place to shelter, every time they can find privacy from the eyes of others, every time they have even a moment to live their own lives. And even more than that, he doesn't know why Balthier so often flinches away from Basch's lips, why he can't stand the touch of Basch's hands around his wrists, why he's never the one to heal Basch in battle when they go down.

Basch likes to believe that maybe Balthier just likes it rough and cold. But then, Basch also likes to think he can stop this charade of a relationship any time. Basch... even he'd be the first to admit that he often lacks insight.

Basch doesn't know and Basch wouldn't want to know what drives Balthier both to him and away every other night. But Basch thinks that as long as Balthier is with him, no matter _how_ fragmented that being _with him_ is, he'll be able to survive.

Basch is too damn much like his brother sometimes.


End file.
